Waking up in Marsember

Roughly a year ago, you found yourself unexplainably as a resident of the Seaport City Marsember. Sometimes referred to as “The City of Spices” due to it’s myriad of tradesman and merchants who peddle varieties of spice, Marsember spans several small islands and is latticed with canals.

100 years earlier, the lowering of the Sea of Stars had a significant impact on Marsember, both in terms of its trade and naval capabilities. Today Marsember is still considered a hub for trade of all types, yet it’s protecting navy never fully returned to its moorage.

With the sheer volume of trade conduct here, it goes without saying that corruption abounds in this seaport. Merchant guilds known as “The Spice Lords” run the gamut in practice from honest trade to blatant extortion. Just about anything can be gotten in Marsember, from exotic elixirs to the strangest of harlots, even the banned substance Haddrum if you look hard enough. Corruption is so rampant that Purple Dragon regiments who are garrisoned from Suzail are stationed here for no more than a year.
What you know…

You have been gainfully employed for the past months to the degree that you have been able to amass a meager savings while maintaining you learned skills at the same time. (Based on your character and class, create any back history you wish. There are numerous temples you could serve as an acolyte at, merchants always need bodyguards and there are plenty of apprentice or scholarly opportunities in the arcane arts.)

You have a good feel of city and are relatively comfortable. You have seen mercenaries as well as adventurers come and go and have heard many of their tales. Often times you hear goings on from various regions of Faerun, including Thay, The Sword Coast, The Underchasm and The Plague lands. You haven’t caused any trouble, (not yet anyways) and both the Purple Dragons and The War Wizards largely ignore you while you go about your daily life.

Over the course of the last year, you have recognized some faces in Marsember. Your familiarity with these faces (Your soon to be party members if you haven’t figured it out) is just as unexplainable as your sudden arrival and “conveniently” arranged employment. The six of you have apprehensively started to talk to one another and slowly begun relating your shared experiences.
What you know you shouldn’t know…

You were once in training as a recruit for The Ebon Ward. From your experience, The Ebon Ward, or simply “The Ward” is a secretive compound designed to train and develop adventuring parties and small skirmishing squadrons for mercenary purposes. (Again, use this opportunity to create any back-story detailing how you became a recruit of the ward.)

The highly competent instructors of the Ward taught everything you’ve learned about your class to you. (You can find out more about them on this website). As all recruits are required to do, you eventually prepared for your competency exams. It was common knowledge that recruits who met with failure were removed from The Wards and were “relocated”.

Your time to test arrived…and you failed. You’ve always been frustrated by this event because going into the examination you were extremely confident you knew you craft well, even better than most. Whether it was bad luck…the snap of a broken weapon at crucial point, a faulty spell component…what ever it was…you haven’t been able to shake the feeling that some element of non-linear epigenesis was to blame.

You were informed that you could no longer continue to be part of The Ward. The Instructors prepared you for a ritual to have you memories erased in order to preserve The Ward’s surreptitous existence.

Yet again, for unexplained reason you have retained much more knowledge of your time with The Ebon Ward than you know you should.
That is where you find yourself in the present day…at The Blue Squall Inn.. discussing strands of frayed memories with equally puzzled individuals who quite possibly were your former companions.

Shield of Cormyr